


twelve days of christmas

by snottygrrl



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-26
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snottygrrl/pseuds/snottygrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an unexpected gift leaves merlin guessing. modern au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the first day

**Author's Note:**

> **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC and Shine. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
>  This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** every year, somebody asks the question as whether the twelve days of christmas are the ones leading up to the 25th, or somewhere surrounding the 25th. i mentally sigh and explain that the twelve days of christmas start on the evening of the 25th, ending on twelfth night (the eve of the 5th of jan) and epiphany (the 6th of jan).

The sound of the flat buzzer surprises Merlin. It's Boxing Day, so most of his fellow students are still off with their families. And while Merlin knows his mum was disappointed by his short visit, he also knows she understands his obsessive nature and need to get back to his dissertation.

A disgruntled deliveryman shoves a clipboard at him when he opens the door. "Sign here."

Merlin stares at the docket. "Gardening Express - Dwarf Patio Pear (one)," it states. The "From" section is blank. He turns to the pot plant. Perched in the branches is a small toy partridge.


	2. the second day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the next day brings another gift

"And you're sure there wasn't a note?" Hunith asks. "Taped under the pot, perhaps?"

Merlin rolls his eyes. "No, mum, not there, not anywhere. I checked several times."

"How intriguing," she says. "Who do you -"

Merlin cuts her off when the buzzer sounds. "Hang on a minute, there's someone at the door."

He returns to the phone before he opens today's delivery. "I'm back," he says as he pulls out a delicate little cage with two miniature birds inside. The whole thing is exquisitely carved. "My god, you can even see their feathers," he breathes.

"Is there a note this time?"

" _I figured sending real birds was a bit of an ask_ ," Merlin reads to her, " _Especially since they're supposed to 'purr'. Besides, this kind of reminded me of you_." And Merlin melts a little with the thought that there's somebody out there that would compare him to this beautiful piece. Until he reads on, that is. " _You're all thin and breakable-looking and always locked in the library when any sane person would actually get out once in a while. Anyway, I hope you like it_ ," Merlin finishes with an annoyed huff.

Hunith just laughs.


	3. the third day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and another

"So who do you think it could be?" Gwen asks as she examines the tiny cage.

"Don't know," responds Merlin.

He's ever so glad she's here. He hadn’t really expected to see her until later tonight or maybe not even until tomorrow. But she'd come right over as soon as she returned to Oxford, before she had even unpacked. _It's not often one's best friend starts living out a Christmas carol_ , she'd explained when he'd asked, _Well, I mean, not the one with Christmas past and all that, but-_ and he'd stopped her with a hug.

"I don't know many students that could afford this," she says, indicating the carved birds. "Oh! Do you think it could be one of the professors?"

"Gwen!" he exclaims, but before Merlin can add anything more the buzzer sounds.

"I'll get it!" Gwen says and makes for the door.

Merlin looks up to see her holding the distinctive box from amazon.co.uk. "Go ahead, open it," he prompts.

Moments later she's holding up three DVDs and frowning.

With no explanation forthcoming Merlin asks, "What are they?"

" _Jam and Jerusalem: Series 2_ , _Let Them Eat Cake - Complete Series_ and _French and Saunders - Still Alive_."

Merlin blinks. "Pardon?"

"Oh wait! There's one of those wee little notes on the packing slip. _I wasn't going to get you more bloody birds, and I've always found Dawn French funny. Hope you enjoy them_ ," reads Gwen. "Well, at least we know whoever this is, is likely male."

"We do?" asks Merlin.

"I know very few women that could possibly make something as sweet as acting out _The Twelve Days of Christmas_ so unromantic." She sounds aggrieved.

Merlin grins as he puts one of the DVDs on to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and can i just add a short non-spoilery little directors commentary note? see, i did this same thing a few years ago, only with [hp (h/d)](http://snottygrrl.livejournal.com/168880.html). i learned about each days traditional gift and came up with things that harry could send draco that related to the twelve themes. and now i need to come up with a whole 'nother set, which is fun, and why i'm doing this. but i kill myself, because i spent at least three hours off and on during the last 24 hours googling 'three french hens' and derivatives there of. i now know there is a [3 french hens](http://www.finda.co.nz/business/listing/2hzm/3-french-hens/) cafe in howick, nz, a [three french hens antique dealer](http://www.threefrenchhensantiques.com/) in MO, a [french hen pub](http://www.information-britain.co.uk/showPlace.cfm?Place_ID=39577) in west midlands and some places in texas, washington state and several other spots that sell things and have the words 'french' and 'hen' in their titles. i also know that there doesn't seem to be any wine nor ale called any version of 'french hen'. you may have noticed that i went for a stretch in the end. now i get to do the whole thing again over calling/collie birds. heeee!


	4. the fourth day

Merlin's not ignoring Gwen's texts about who the guy could be. Not really. It's just that he'd come back from hols early so he wouldn't lose his momentum in that section he'd just made a breakthrough on. Merlin's working. And that's the only reason why he hasn't returned his mum's calls as well. He'll get back to both of them with the news of today's gift later on.

Today's gift. Merlin smiles as he contemplates the fact that he's received four presents so far and in all likelihood will be receiving eight more.

Turning the jewel case over in his hands, he examines it for clues. His bloke — as Merlin's come to think of him — didn't bother with anything fancy this time, not even a note. There's just the words _Four Colly Birds_ written in neat block letters on the cd, itself, and the playlist written in the same hand on a simple insert slid into the cover of the case.

 _1\. Blackbird - The Beatles  
2\. Blackbird - Bobby Mc Ferrin  
3\. Blackbird - Marillion  
4\. Lon-Dubh (Blackbird) - Julie Fowlis_

His phone chimes again, indicating a new text from Gwen. Merlin's smile widens as he hits 'play' for the third time and picks up his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **additional A/N:** okay, remember how i said i spent all this time yesterday trying to figure out merlin's gift? when i did the h/d version of this, i discovered that it's not four 'calling' birds, it's originally four 'colly' birds, which are blackbirds. hence, today i spent a heap of time listening to youtube versions of the many covers that wikipedia listed of the song _blackbird_. so yes, the gift was specifically chosen to be the beatles original, [bobby mc ferrin's version](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NntmAj60O60), [julie fowlis' scottish gaelic lon-dubh (blackbird)](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0MzetQfKwbE), and [marillion](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marillion)'s version (which i couldn't find a copy of, but i trust that arthur could [*smirks*] - **eta:** a lovely reader, seihi, found a copy of [marillion's version](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ixw1D2azDw) that was put up on youtube much later than when i wrote this). i discarded versions by phish, the grateful dead, sarah mclachlen and several others.


	5. the fifth day

Merlin stares at the small jeweller's box in his hand, then at the accompanying note, and then back at the box. Eventually, he turns helplessly to Gwen.

"What does it say?" she asks gently.

"I don't..." he starts, "I can't... I..." He gives up and just passes her the paper.

Gwen takes it from him with a worried frown. "Do you want me to read it out loud?"

Merlin nods dumbly, still clutching the velvet box.

" _Merlin_ ," she begins, and Merlin makes a small choking sound. "Are you okay?" Gwen asks.

"Yeah, fine, sorry." She's about to start reading again when Merlin adds, "It's just the first time he's actually used my name."

"You're name was on all of the other packages."

Merlin shrugs. "Yes. But somehow this seems more, I don't know, _real_."

Gwen watches him for a moment and then returns to the note." _Merlin, this is the gift that started this whole bleedin' thing. See, I remember how you used to play with that thumb ring you had. The one with the three interlocking rings. You always wore it and you _always_ played with it. Used to drive me mental. And then one day it was gone. And bugger if I didn't find myself missing it. Came across this one in a shop and had to buy it for you. The salesman says that it has four different types of gold, one white gold ring, one rose gold ring, one green gold ring and two yellow gold rings. Five gold rings. Reminded me of the song and well... Hope it fits okay_." Gwen glances over at the box. "Well, let's see it then."

Merlin had opened the box at first, before he'd looked at the note, but when he'd seen what was inside he'd snapped it shut. "He's real isn't he?" Merlin says now. "You see, I think a part of me just thought this was a couple of my mates having a laugh."

"Who? Like me and Percival?"

Merlin nods, "Or Will and some of the other guys. But it's not. It's someone who knows me and wants me to wear a ring he's bought."

Gwen huffs, "It doesn't sound like he means it as a promise or anything. Come on. You know how much you miss that ring. Try it on."

"I didn't even know there was green gold."

"Merlin."

Merlin finally opens the box and to avoid further harassment from Gwen, slips the ring on his thumb.

It fits perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **additional a/n:** the ring is something like [this one](http://www.novica.com/itemdetail/index.cfm?pid=76566), only in multiple colours like [this one](http://shop.thehungersite.com/store/item.do?itemId=29615&siteId=220) (only in actual gold).


	6. the sixth day

Merlin gazes about the room searching for Gwen. The party's been going for awhile, and between catching up with the folk just back from hols and attempting to subtly scan the crowd to see if any of the blokes are paying particular attention to him or his new ring, Merlin hasn't managed to talk to her yet.

When he finally spots her and makes his way over, the room is not as steady as it should be. This doesn't dissuade him from topping up his glass when Gwen offers him the bottle of sparkling wine that she and a lovely dark-haired woman seem to be sharing. It's New Years after all.

"Have you met Morgana?" Gwen asks, voice raised in order to be heard over the noise of the party.

Merlin shakes his head as he offers his hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Merlin."

"Merlin, finally," Morgana replies, "Gwen's been telling me about your rather unique secret admirer. We're both dying to know what today's gift is."

Gwen blushes a bit at Merlin's pointed look. "You didn't really expect me to keep quiet when my best friend is getting _The Twelve Days of Christmas_ , did you? I mean it's just Morgana. Not that I'm saying that Morgana isn't special or anything, but she can certainly keep a secret. Except that this isn't really a secret is it? 'Cause you never said it was. Not that I'm running around announcing it or anything."

"No, it's fine, Gwen. Really." Merlin says, unable to stay mad at her. He turns back to Morgana. "Two goose down pillows. 600 fill power."

Morgana raises an eyebrow. "Nice."

"What did the note say?" Gwen asks.

"No note today." Merlin answers. He takes a sip of wine, looking about the room again and idly sliding the ring back and forth on his thumb. He jumps a bit when Morgana snatches his hand. "Sorry, I'll stop playing with it," he says, but she's waving off the apology before he even finishes.

"Where did you get this?"

Merlin looks up, surprised. "Five gold rings."

"Really?" she replies, though it’s more of a statement than a question. "Isn’t that interesting."

"What?" asks Gwen, echoing Merlin's confusion.

"Oh, nothing. Maybe. I'll have to do some checking," she answers and smiles.


	7. the seventh day

Gwen's just arriving as Merlin blearily takes the small package from the deliveryman, who, Merlin feels, is far too cheerful for this hour on New Year's Day. She exchanges Happy New Year greetings with said deliveryman as they pass, before attempting to drag Merlin from his warm and comfy flat.

"You'll feel better after some food," she says by way of explanation. "No, bring the package with you."

With the promise of eggs and bacon on the horizon, Merlin grudgingly complies.

He's feeling slightly more human after his third cup of tea, which allows him to be charitable when Gwen finally burst out, "Well, aren't you going to open it?"

His mood drops considerably when the package contains nothing but a book with a small note stuck to the front of it. _I hope you don't already have this,_ it says.

"Ooooh, what is it," asks Gwen. Merlin wrinkles his nose and hands it over. " _The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable_ ," she reads. She flips the book over and scans the back. "Sounds interesting." Looking up at Merlin's snort of disbelief, she frowns. "What? Have you read it before?"

"Have I read a book that has a recommendation by the _Financial Times_ on the cover? Not likely, " he answers and even he recognises that his voice sounds more than a wee bit petulant.

"Merlin! Don't you dare be snobbish about a gift from this bloke. He's been giving you such amazing things," Gwen is quick to admonish. "You know he wouldn't have picked just anything. I'll wager he likes this book, or he wouldn't have sent it. You can at least have the courtesy to give it a skim."

Merlin blushes a little as he retrieves the book from Gwen and dutifully gives it a closer inspection. He's just looking over the chapter titles when he realises Gwen's texting. He glances suspiciously at her phone. "You wouldn't be sending a message about today's gift to someone, would you?"

Gwen startles slightly and then asks innocently, "Who could I possibly text that would even know what I was talking about?"

"Oh I don't know. Maybe Morgana?"

She looks back down as she scoffs, "I'm sure Morgana, has better things to worry about than what you've received today."

"I'm sure she does," murmurs Merlin as Gwen hits send.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **additional A/N:** the book arthurmerlin's bloke sent is this [one](http://www.amazon.com/Black-Swan-Impact-Highly-Improbable/dp/1400063515/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1262487813&sr=8-2-catcorr) (only with the [uk cover](http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/reader/0141034599/ref=sib_dp_pt#reader-link)). no i haven't read it, but i'd like to.


	8. the eighth day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> merlin's glad he's alone when the next gift arrives

Gwen was supposed to have stopped by over an hour ago. She's yet to show. Merlin has never been more grateful in his entire life. Because if Gwen had been on time, she would have been in Merlin's flat when the package had arrived.

Just the thought makes his face flame with embarrassment. Gwen is one of his closest friends, but that still doesn't mean he could have opened up a box that contained a strand of eight Oriental Jelly Anal Beads, a Lelo Billy Vibrating Prostate Massager (rechargeable) and a container of Yes Organic Lube and not turned twenty shades of red.

Today's package includes a note. _Merlin,_ it reads, _Rumor has it, it's not maids that you prefer to be milked by. I'm counting on that to be true. However, even if it's not, or if it is, but you want nothing to do with me, these toys should make it a little more fun no matter who's involved._ Merlin suddenly has an image of himself naked on a bed and strong, masculine hands teasing the beads out of him as he whimpers and writhes.

The sound of the flat buzzer almost causes him to shriek. Merlin hurriedly stuffs everything into the box and practically throws it in his bedroom, slamming the door closed as he goes to let Gwen in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," Gwen says. "But I met Morgana and we got talking and lost track of the time. I hope you don't mind..."

"It's okay, really," Merlin cuts in, wondering if he looks as flushed as he feels.

"...that I brought Morgana along," she finishes.

There is a brief moment during which Merlin visualises trying to tell Gwen _and_ Morgana about what's in today's box, but then his brain refuses to continue along that vein and goes blessedly blank. "I'm starving," he says instead. "Thai okay?"

Merlin's on his way back from the loo at his and Gwen's favourite Thai place, pondering the miracle that neither woman has made any mention of the whole _Twelve Days_ thing, when he catches a bit of their whispered conversation.

"Are you sure we can't ask?" Gwen wheedles.

Morgana shakes her head. "No, Gwen, I promised."

"Why?"

"Because as much as I like to rile him, I do care and I could tell it was extremely important to him that we leave Merlin alone about today's gift."

"But he wouldn't tell you what it was either, right?"

"All the more reason," Morgana murmurs, holding up her hand to stop Gwen's further protests. "Gwen, he was blushing something fierce when we talked. He rarely does that. I don't know what he sent, but I have my guesses. And I, for one, am not going to force Merlin into telling us his mystery man sent something highly embarrassing."

Gwen subsides and Merlin's about to return to his seat when she adds, "And we can't tell Merlin who he is?"

Morgana's voice is quiet, but stern. "No, Gwen. We have to give them a chance to play this out."

"What about a hint?"

Morgana laughs softly. "No, Gwen."

Figuring he's heard all the useful bits he's going to, Merlin coughs loudly and continues towards the table. He's caught between relief that his bloke has ensured that he won't be having the imagined mortifying conversation with Gwen and Morgana, and annoyance that Gwen and Morgana know who his bloke is, yet Merlin can't ask without bringing the whole thing up. Besides, it sounds like even if he did, Morgana wouldn't let on anyway.

"So, Merlin," Morgana says brightly, "Tell me about celebrating Christmas in a small town."


	9. the ninth day

Merlin's on his way over to meet Lancelot, when he opens his gift for 'nine ladies dancing'. It takes him a moment to realise that that's what it is, because for the first time since this whole thing started it isn't a box.

He's still grinning widely when he finally locates Lancelot in Sainsbury Library. Lancelot's surrounded by books and it's obvious that he's not ready to go for coffee just yet, so Merlin takes a seat nearby and pulls out the card again. The cover is a copy of an obscure picture of Saint George and the Dragon. It makes Merlin's heart skip a beat that his bloke bothered to find something that reflects Merlin's studies in art, even though his current work doesn't centre around his love for medieval paintings.

 _Merlin,_ the note inside reads, _I hope that you're not busy next Saturday and will be able to use these tickets. I'd be honoured if you'd allow me to accompany you to the show as well as take you out to dinner afterwards. And no, you don't need to decide before you know who I am. I don't want you to feel pressured at all, so if you'd rather go with a friend instead, that's okay, too. In any case, I hear the show is really good, so you should enjoy it. By the way, you don't even have to find out who I am if you don't want to, either. I promise not to bother you anymore if you'd rather I just go away. You have my word. However, I'm counting on your curiousity winning over caution and romance winning over practicality._

The tickets enclosed are for a matinee showing of a musical called _Into The Hoods: A London Fairytale_. It's playing at Southbank Centre in London and Merlin's been dying to see it, but had pretty much resigned himself to missing it since it's about to close. And now he has seats for a show at the end of the week and his bloke wants to go with him.

The sound of stacking books draws his attention back to Lancelot. "Sorry," Lancelot says when Merlin looks over. "I'll be ready to leave in a second."

"It's okay," Merlin says, waving a hand in vague dismissal. "What are you working on, anyway? I thought you'd said you weren't going to be able to get any further until after you'd met with what's-his-face."

"I won't," Lancelot agrees. "This isn't for me, I promised Arthur I'd help him out a bit."

Merlin rolls his eyes. "Why you'd want to help that prat is beyond me."

"What? No loyalty over at The Ruskin?" a familiar voice drawls from behind him and Merlin feels his cheeks heat as Arthur walks over to speak to Lancelot.

Merlin watches the two of them talk, admiring Arthur's backside while they do. He may not like the way Arthur struts around like he owns the place, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy the view.


	10. the tenth day

Gwen and Morgana wave to them from a small table near the back of the restaurant when they arrive.

"Honestly, Merlin, he's a nice guy. You really should give him a chance," Lancelot is saying as they join them. "I can't believe that you're being such a snob. You don't even know him, how do you know you don't like him?"

"Who?" asks Gwen.

"He has a graduate degree in business, -"

"Oi!" Lancelot interrupts.

"Who does?" tries Gwen again.

Merlin continues as if no one had spoken, "He played cricket when he was an undergrad, and now he struts around Saïd as if he's some sort of royalty and has you doing his research. What else is there to know?"

"It's not like that," Lancelot begins at the same time as Morgana says somewhat defiantly, "It's not his fault he's posh."

And Gwen pleads, "Who's posh?"

"Arthur," responds Lancelot and Morgana in unison while Merlin says, "Researcher Prat."

"Oh!" replies Gwen, and looks oddly stricken.

Merlin's just wondering what he's done to cause her to look like that, and if it needs to be fixed when it finally registers. "Wait a minute. Morgana, you know Arthur?"

"One might say that," she confirms, her tone dry.

"Oh, god," Merlin groans. "You're not dating or anything like that are you?"

Morgana burst out laughing. "No, we aren't."

"Arthur is -" Gwen starts.

"...someone everyone knows," finishes Morgana smoothly giving Gwen what Merlin would swear is a quelling look. "What's everyone ordering?"

They're just finishing their coffees when Morgana says, "You've left us in suspense all evening. Out with it. What's today's gift?"

Merlin just shrugs and tosses her an envelope. Morgana pulls out the card (this one with a copy of an illuminated manuscript on the cover) and opens it up.

"Two tickets to Chelsea v Sunderland at Stamford Bridge on 16 January," she says, sounding impressed. "These must have cost a pretty penny. Can I?" she asks gesturing to the card. Merlin nods his assent.

" _Merlin,_ " Morgana reads, " _When I think of leaping and lords I think of cricket, but all the matches being played in January are in South Africa, Australia or New Zealand. There won't be a match anywhere near here until the summer. It seemed a bit cheeky to buy you a pair of tickets to a match that's months away, and even more so to suggest you fly to the southern hemisphere with me to watch some game, so I bought you these footie tickets instead. Same goes as what I said for yesterday's tickets. You're free to take whomever you'd like, but I'm still hoping you'll give me a chance. And who knows, maybe we'll see one of those cricket matches come summer, as well._ "

"Well, if you don't like him, you can always take me," Lancelot jokes as Gwen gives him a playful swat on his arm. He thinks for a moment. "I haven't been to a game since Arthur invited me along."

"Maybe you two should just go," Merlin says feeling confused and grumpy. He's never been much for sport — brings back too many traumatic memories from adolescence — but it's obvious that his bloke is, and wants Merlin to go along to footie and cricket matches with him. And, okay, it probably wouldn't be horrible, but what if his bloke expects him to know what team is which and -

His downward spiral is interrupted by Lancelot, who has somehow totally missed that Merlin's pouting. "Arthur doesn't need a seat, the Pendragon's have Hospitality Season Tickets."

"Arthur persuaded Uther to give their 16 January tickets to the Christmas Charity Auction," says Morgana absently.

"He did?" Merlin asks, startled by the revelation.

Morgana nods, adding softly, "I know he can be an arse, believe me, but Lancelot is right, he's not a bad guy. You really should try and get to know him before you dismiss him. What can you lose?"

Merlin isn't quite sure when he consented to go to a meeting of the Arthur Pendragon Fan Club, but he shrugs agreeably.

"Great, I'll give him a call and see if he can join us for a drink," Morgana says, pulling out her iPhone.

"What? Now?"

"Yes. Now. Problem?" she challenges.

"Yeah. No." Merlin takes a deep breath. It's just a drink with friends and a gorgeous blond prat. Besides, he has his bloke. "No. No problem."

Gwen beams at him.


	11. the eleventh day

Merlin barks a laugh as he opens today's rather large box. Inside, among copious packing materials, are eleven wooden crates. Nestled in each of them, surrounded by straw, is a bottle of Piper Heidsieck champagne. Examining a couple of the bottles, he realises that not all are the same. Cuvée Rare, and Cuvée Sublime are the first two he finds and as he searches further, he discovers two more types of Cuvées, some Bruts and a Rosé Sauvage.

Pulling the note from the box, he reads, _Merlin, I hope you like champagne. I realise that eleven bottles may be a tad excessive; blame the bloody song. I figure it's always good for a gift or a celebration in any case._ Merlin pauses, lips quirking into a smile. He's never been a huge champagne drinker, but he does prefer it over beer.

That thought of alcohol preferences causes his mind to trail back to the previous night. As worried as he'd been about having to spend some time at the same table as Arthur and not say something nasty, it had been a very pleasant evening. Despite the fact that most of their previous encounters had included a few barbed insults (alright, perhaps mostly from Merlin's side lately) and Merlin's former surety that Arthur's a rich arse, it turns out that Morgana and Lancelot are right. Arthur isn't all that bad, and can, in fact, be fairly charming. Not only that, but over the evening Merlin had caught Arthur starting at him with an almost wistful expression more than once.

Last night and this whole anonymous admirer thing has Merlin thoroughly confused. He's never considered himself to be anyone that special. Sure, he's had a few boyfriends over the years, but he's never been the guy the gorgeous, rich, successful blokes looked at, unless it's to make a crack about his ears, or how useless artists are. And no one has ever sent him something as simple as flowers, let alone a pot plant, sex toys and nearly a case of champagne. The very thought alone makes him want to hyperventilate.

It isn't as if Merlin doesn't love the anticipation and surprises that each day brings, but the idea that someone might care about him this much, is a bit overwhelming. And as Twelfth Night approaches, Merlin wonders just who his bloke could possibly be. This hasn't been an inexpensive venture, and while there are lots of folk at Oxford with trust funds, they aren't the sort that Merlin hangs about with on the whole. What if Gwen was right when she suggested one of the professors? Not that Merlin has anything against May-December romances, he just hasn't met any, well, Decembers that he'd be interested in.

And if he's listing things that make him panicky, the idea that most likely he'll soon have to think of Arthur as more than an outside annoyance makes his head hurt. Arthur's the type of golden boy he's always avoided, ever since Merlin, himself, was a weedy little student in Year 5 who doodled on everything and excelled in art, but Lancelot has been Merlin's friend for years, and Lancelot and Arthur have been doing more and more things together, both at Saïd and socially. And now that Gwen is getting along so well with Morgana, and Morgana seems to have Arthur on her speed dial, Merlin's sure there will be more evenings like last night.

He shakes off the bewildering thoughts and returns to his bloke's note. _I have to admit, I'm in a bit of a dilemma as to the best way to let you know who I am. It seems a little strange to just sign my name on tomorrow's gift, but a tad forward to deliver it myself. My step-sister says I should just call you after it's delivered. Whatever I decide on, I hope you won't be disappointed when you find out._

Something about the last bit nags at Merlin, and not just because his bloke seems afraid Merlin won't like him. He thinks back on the last week and suddenly it hits him in a blinding rush: Morgana's strange comment at the party; her and Gwen's whispered conversation where Morgana said she cared about his bloke; Arthur on Morgana's speed dial and their easy banter at the pub; _my step-sister says..._.

No, it can't be. Merlin scrambles for his phone and calls Gwen.


	12. the twelfth day

Merlin looks nervously at the box that contains the final gift. His bloke — _Arthur_ , he corrects himself — didn't decide to deliver it himself. Merlin doesn't know yet if he decided to sign it or not, since, for some unexplainable reason, he seems afraid to look inside.

Perhaps it's because this is the last time he can pretend that some shining prince is going to come sweep him off his feet, or perhaps he's worried that Gwen's right and Arthur really does want to be his prince. It's all very well to imagine someone golden and strong being interested, but Merlin's petrified of the reality. What if whoever his prince is finds Merlin boring once he gets him? Or only truly loves the hunt, not the prize? Merlin's not sure he can handle the _almost_ of such a situation.

And despite Gwen's reassurances last night when he'd cornered her, he's not at all convinced this isn't just some game. He'd been horrified when she'd reluctantly confirmed that his bloke was actually Arthur 'Researcher Prat' Pendragon. Merlin's fairly certain that at best, Arthur thinks of him as no more than a deer or horse, something to be hunted or tamed, but is anxious it's something worse, that Merlin is the butt of some joke or the subject of some bet; that everyone's known but him. _"It's not like that!"_ Gwen had protested. _"No one knows Arthur's your bloke but me and Morgana, and that's only because she just figured it out. I wouldn't even know if Morgana hadn't needed to do something to keep me from asking about day eight!"_ There'd been a bit of an embarrassed pause after that on both their parts.

Gwen had gone on to explain to Merlin that Arthur has seemed a bit smitten with him for a while now, at least according to Morgana (who's relayed as much to Gwen). That between Merlin's interactions with Arthur, Lancelot's tales about and obvious fondness of Merlin and Merlin's artwork (which Arthur's seen at Lancelot's and at The Ruskin), Arthur's been practically mooning over him — though Morgana says Arthur would never admit to such. Merlin had remained doubtful, and Gwen had eventually given up. _"Just try and keep an open mind, Merlin,"_ she'd advised before ringing off.

It turns out it's the combination of today's gift and the note that persuades Merlin to give Arthur a chance. _Merlin,_ the message reads, _My step-sister swore you'd like this when I picked it out and showed it to her. Though I don't know much about fashion past button-downs and business suits, I think it'll look great on you. However, upon further consideration, I've decided that it's too much pressure on both of us if I reveal who I am to you at this time. As much as I'd like to accompany you, it's probably best if you just take some friends instead to use those tickets. I don't want you to think I've given up on you, or am having second thoughts. I'm not, it's just that I'm don't think we're ready yet. Perhaps we'll still make it to that cricket match. All my very best._

Merlin lifts the jacket out of the tissue paper. The handwritten tag attached says it's a one-of-a-kind original. It also says its design is similar to a late eighteenth century Drummer's jacket of an Edinburgh Town Guard. Merlin's not much of one for fashion either — he sticks mostly to jeans and t-shirts — but he falls in love with the jacket even before he puts it on and when he does, it fits him like a dream.

Merlin picks up the note again and stares at it for a minute. Then he picks up his phone. "Gwen, I need a favour."

Less than an hour later he's at the café where Arthur thinks he's meeting Morgana.

"Merlin," Arthur says, sounding a little flustered.

"Arthur," greets Merlin. "Thanks for the jacket, it's perfect."

"Good, I'm glad you -" Arthur begins, before he makes a small choking sound. He sighs. "Morgana didn't need to meet me, did she?" When Merlin shakes his head, Arthur gestures to the empty chair. "Care to sit down?"

The two men study each other for a bit before Merlin finally says, "I never thought you'd back down from a challenge, Pendragon."

"I didn't back down, just fell back to regroup." Arthur sounds tired and frustrated. "After Monday at the pub, well, you weren't so chuffed to be in the same room with me and I didn't think it wise to tell you I was the one sending you anal beads and lube!" he explains, his cheeks flushing pink.

"Did you mean it?" Merlin asks.

Arthur frowns. "What?"

"Did you mean all the things you sent?" Merlin's gaze is serious, assessing. "Do you really want to take me to a musical and a footie game and maybe even get a chance to test those toys?"

Arthur doesn't hesitate, "Yes. Absolutely. All of it." And then murmurs something under his breath that sounds distinctly like, "especially the toys."

A wide grin splits Merlin's face, "Let's start with tea then, shall we?"

~fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **additional A/N:** the jacket arthur bought looks something like [this one at the national museum of scottland](http://nms.scran.ac.uk/database/record.php?usi=000-100-002-540-C), only not in bright red.  
>  i've had a heap of fun with this 'verse and there is tons more i know about the characters than i've put down. this means i may be inclined to write some more from it, especially if someone other than me is interested in seeing it.  
> well. i hope some of you enjoyed that wee adventure with me. i seem to have become a little talky in the last few chapters, ran out of time a bit to do otherwise and still have it make sense, which i hope it did in the end.


End file.
